"You'll end up living under a bridge."
I already do:
The bridge between heaven and earth;
The bridge between God and man;
The bridge between what was and what will be—
that is, what is, today.
Today, I live under a bridge.
His name is Jesus.
The bridge hangs upon the cross beams.
Under such almighty shadow I dwell.
This bridge, this cross, it's where I hang out.
You say I'll live under a bridge.
You're only partly right.
More fitting is the truth:
I live under the bridge, today.
Today, not only under it, but in the end also on it.
Under the bridge,
On the cross,
In him,
That's where my life is,
Today, that's where I live.
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And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”
He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
To the present hour we are hungry and thirsty, we are poorly clothed and beaten and homeless, and we grow weary from the work of our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we speak kindly. We have become like the rubbish of the world, the dregs of all things, to this very day.
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